


Nevermind the Bollocks - Here's the Phantom Troupe

by sub_divided



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Drinking, Gen, Hookup aps like tinder and grindr, HxHBB20, Machi POV, Marijuana, Slice of Life, Smoking, and other things that band dudes in their 20s talk about, casual mentions of bigotry, hisoka being predatory, hxhbb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25005751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sub_divided/pseuds/sub_divided
Summary: Four of the the original members of the Phantom troupe, plus Shizuku, are members of an indie rock band without much ambition besides playing out and having a good time.  But their leader/promoter, Chrollo, has much more ambitious plans for them.Thanks to the band’s unique sound and Chrollo’s relentless promotion, they are quickly signed by a local label for a demo EP, to be followed by a full-length album, all on the label’s dime.  But, why don’t the members of the band seem to care?  And, will the new attention change the band’s internal chemistry?Machi POV because I'm gay for her.  Written for  HxH Big Bang 2020!
Comments: 19
Kudos: 23
Collections: Hxhbb





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This year I got involved as an organizer for HxH Big Bang and it was super fun! THERE IS ART FOR THIS FIC!!!
> 
> [  
>  ](https://violana-d.tumblr.com/post/622488359621836800/this-year-i-was-able-to-participate-in)
> 
> Art by violana_d on tumblr... Click [here](https://violana-d.tumblr.com/post/622488359621836800/this-year-i-was-able-to-participate-in) to show her some love!
> 
> For more stuff from the event, you can check us out on [tumblr](https://hxhbigbang2020.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/hxhbigbang2020), or check the [Ao3 collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HunterxHunterBigBang) for more fic! Thank you kiwizoom, dodici, Scott, Davi and munen for beta-reading! Also special thanks to pionut for coming up with the title, I was just gonna call this "Phantom Troupe Band AU" ahaha.

“Do we need to run through anything else? Cause if not, I have a hot date with my bathtub tonight and I wanna shower off the smell of your mom’s basement, no offense.”

“Full offense, my mom’s basement smells great. There’s a candle right over there.”

“Yeah, one of those votive candles for dead people…”

“I think we need to do the intro medley again,” Chrollo cut in, before they could get more off track. Every band practice seemed to devolve to Machi and Phinks sniping at each other like children, sometimes with the rest of the band cheering them on. Sometimes he felt like a preschool teacher more than a bandleader. And speaking of being a bandleader...

“The timing’s off on the first transition, the drums and bass are fine but Shizuku keeps coming in early and it’s throwing off Nobunaga.” He waited a beat, then said: “No groaning. The record company guy will be at the show tomorrow, we need to be tight.” 

“Sorry everyone,” Shizuku said from behind her keyboard, while Phinks and Feitan grumbled as they picked up their guitars. “I think I’m getting that part confused with the next part. I’ll get it right this time.”

“Three times charm,” Feitan said, deadpan, playing an idle riff. Though of course he meant it sarcastically, Shikuzu just nodded, either oblivious or just not caring that she was the target for their lead guitarist’s legendarily sharp tongue this time. 

“You’d better,” Phinks said, adjusting the strap on his bass. “Machi might have a date with her bathtub, but I have an actual date tonight… and she is REALLY hot, a total ten out of ten. I think I scraped the skin off my index finger, I swiped right so hard.”

“TMI, dude,” Machi said from behind the drumset. It was a small electronic set she kept with Phinks just for practice, she had a full acoustic drum kit at home. Normally, the band would have practiced at her place but Phinks and his mom were more centrally located, right off the highway and closer to everyone else. Plus, they were in kind of a shitty neighborhood so the neighbors wouldn't complain about the noise. 

“Okay, we good, children? Three, two, one…”

***

The show went fine, Phinks got smashed at the bar before they took the stage but it probably only helped him play better. For two people who didn’t get along, he and Machi had great chemistry as the rhythm section. Machi had to hand it to him, he was a garbage fire of a person but a phenomenal bass player. The more wound up he got, the more he locked into the groove. 

Plus, it was just fun to dunk on Phinks. He made it so easy… 

“That’s it for me, I’m headed out,” Nobunaga said. He’d been right there next to Phinks at the bar, slamming back mai tais, supposedly they helped him keep his throat loose through the screamier parts of their songs. As the frontman, Nobu preferred to spend about 80% of their songs screaming (and the other 20% whisper-crooning - for variety, he said). “Let us know how it goes with the record dude, yeah Chrollo?” 

Chrollo just raised a hand in acknowledgement, he was deep into the count for the night’s take. The venue had a large, circular bar that was a nightmare when you wanted to hail the bartender from across the gap. But Chrollo counting cash at the old-fashioned wooden bar had a kind of old-school, mob boss charm to it, Machi thought idly. He looked like a gangster out of a classic hollywood movie, in a suit-vest and tie. All he needed was a cigar. 

Not her thing, of course, but she could appreciate the image on an abstract level. ‘Mob boss’ seemed to be the vibe their bandleader was going for, anyway. 

When he reached the end of the count, Chrollo divided the bills efficiently, tidying them into neat stacks before handing them out. “We made good money tonight guys, good work.” Phinks and Nobu high-fived each other, as if they’d had anything to do with it. 

“Wasn’t it because of Machi? She got her whole sorority to come out,” Shizuku said. That was more like it. Machi smiled at her. Hell yeah, female solidarity. 

“Yeah, and they all left halfway through the first song,” Nobu said. “The traitors. What’s wrong with a little screamo? It gets your blood pumping, makes you feel alive.”

“Literally who care? They paid at door,” Feitan said. 

“You’re welcome,” Machi said. “Maybe if you guys had my hustle, you wouldn’t need to put my methods down just to make yourselves feel better.” 

“Hey, I brought two!”

“Your parents don’t count Phinks, they come to every show.” 

“I also brought two,” Shikuzu said, referring to Bonolenov and Franklin. They really didn’t count, Bonolenov was a multiinstrumentalist and fixture on the scene, who could fill in for any member of any local band who couldn’t make it out to a show. When he wasn’t on the stage, you could usually find him in the audience dancing and drinking. And Franklin was a childhood friend of Shikuzu’s who came out to pretty much every local show of hers that didn’t conflict with his grad school schedule. But it was no fun to correct Shizuku, so the band just let it go.

“The crowd was good, we made a few new fans tonight... This is a good venue, they know how to promote,” Chrollo observed. He distributed the rest of the money, then said, “You are all free to go, I’ll let you know how it went with the label guy next week at practice.”

Machi watched the rest of the band go from her seat at the bar. They’d been the last band in the lineup, otherwise she’d have been on stage still, breaking down her drum kit after the set for the next band. Always first to arrive and last to leave, the sad fate of the drummer. 

“You ever think that this band takes things way too easily, Chrollo? It’s a record guy right over there,” and she gestured to the other side of the bar, where a tall man in colorful suit was watching the crowd. He had a bit of an intent stare, and a sly smile as if he knew something you didn't... But that may have been his evaluative expression while watching the band, which could be a good thing in a producer, she supposed. “Shouldn’t they want to talk to him too?”

“They trust me,” Chrollo said. Then he smiled, somehow managing to look innocent and creepy at the same time. “It’s better this way, no one questions my authority.”

“Sometimes I think I joined a cult, not a band,” Machi observed dryly. She took a sip of her beer, not expecting any kind of response to that comment. Chrollo just smiled at her and tipped his hat, exactly matching Machi’s mob-boss mental image. 

“But it’s kind of nice, too.... It’s nice being in a band that actually makes money,” she told him. “I like not having to plan anything. I feel like we’re in good hands with you.”

“Of course,” Chrollo said, gesturing for the bartender to settle his check. 

“You can trust me, I’ll take care of everything.”

***

“We’re signed,” Chrollo sent the message to the group chat within the hour. “Make sure to come on time to practice next week, we’ll sign the contract then.”

***

When Machi rolled up to the small, split-level condo Phinks shared with his mom a week later, she was surprised to see a very nice Cadillac already parked in the driveway.

“Yo, Phinks, did someone die and leave you their inheritance?” she asked as she came through the front door, lugging her hi-hat and cymbal (the digital ones just didn’t sound the same). 

She was surprised to see Phinks and Chrollo already deep in discussion with the record label guy in the kitchen of the small house. 

“Hi, I’m Hisoka,” Record Label Guy said, extending a hand. “We were just discussing terms.” After a second went by, he brought out the other hand. “Here, let me take that for you.”

“I got it,” Machi said shortly, and carried the cymbal and hi-hat with her down to the basement. No one in the band *ever* offered to help with her drum kit, and that was how she liked it. More than that, Machi instantly disliked anyone who’d get straight to the point without bullshitting around for at _least_ like, ten minutes. 

But the record label guy, Hisoka, wasn’t all bad. No one who made a living in the music business, even a just barely scraping by one as the only producer on a small local label, could really afford to be fully awkward. He seemed to get out to a lot of shows and to know a lot of the local acts, and they spent the next twenty minutes until the rest of the band arrived gossiping about other bands in the local scene. Hisoka had a pretty poor opinion of most of them, which suited Machi fine (obviously, her band was the best one). 

Anyway, the Cadillac turned out to be a lease. That actually put Machi above Hisoka. At least her Suburu was a loan. 

When the time came for them to sign the contract, Machi didn’t let herself think about it too hard. The label was paying for them to record a demo EP at Hisoka’s studio (in his basement), and they would own the tapes in case of a split. There was nothing to debate really, it was a good deal. 

She put her signature down carelessly, and so did everyone else. Afterward, they all went out to the patio to smoke their victory blunts. 

***

Hisoka had a way of telegraphing exactly how interested or disinterested he was at any given moment. When his attention was fully focused, you felt the weight of calculation behind his gaze - as if you were being assessed, and found wanting. And when you’d lost his attention, he made no attempt to hide how bored he’d become. 

They ran through every song Chrollo wanted to include on the album - 10 in all. Hisoka leaned forward during their popular songs, gaze intent on whoever had the spotlight in that moment. But during their less gripping songs, his gaze wandered to the ceiling and he seemed to idly contemplate why he was even here at all. He folded his long fingers together across his stomach, leaned back in his chair, and gave the impression of regretting every single decision he’d ever made in his life up until now, that had led to him being stuck in the basement with Chrollo and his shitty band. 

It was certainly effective, Machi thought. Kind of like Chrollo, he didn’t have to say anything to make you feel, in a weird way, like you needed to impress him. 

“Okay, so I like the sound overall,” Hisoka told them, once the rehearsal was over. “But some of your songs are a bit…” and his gaze returned to the ceiling again, as if the word he was looking for was written on the exposed plumbing there. 

“... bland.”

It was as if a bomb had gone off in the rehearsal space. 

“Some of _our_ songs are bland?” Nobunga asked, incredulous. “Are you sure you have the right band?

Machi and Chrollo exchanged a look, they needed to be polite but it did seem to be a faintly ridiculous claim. Chrollo and the Spiders were known to the whole local scene for their song medleys stitched together from three or four different riffs. No single part lasted more than 30 seconds and the tempo changed all the time. 

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Hisoka said. “But it’s the unfortunate truth. Attention spans are getting shorter all the time, you know.” And he smirked, as the band looked at each other as if to say, _who does this guy think he is?_

Certainly _his_ attention span seemed to be short, Machi thought sourly. But she remembered taking note - without even knowing which songs were their popular ones, he’d unerringly honed in on their best moments. He did seem to have an ear. 

“What, in your opinion, are we doing wrong?” she asked him. She honestly was curious, Chrollo could be a very strict taskmaster but he rarely interfered with how the rest of the band chose to play their individual parts. That was why Machi stayed in the band, he might be a tyrant but he wasn’t a petty one. 

“Ah, I’m glad you asked, dear Machi,” Hisoka said, and matched it with an aren’t-I-charming, flirty smile. Machi rolled her eyes. Just a little power, and it went straight to some people’s heads. He’d started a local label and signed their band, but that didn’t mean they had to hang onto his every word. 

If Hisoka noticed her disinterest, he didn’t seem put off at all. If anything he seemed to smile slightly wider, as if to say he’d appreciate the challenge of making Machi fall for him. 

_Ah,_ Machi thought, _one of those._ If she told him she was a lesbian, it would probably only encourage him. 

“I’ll get into the details in a moment… _dear_ Machi,” he said. Ugh. “But in general, your songs repeat just sliiiiightly~ too much….you should try to change the verses every time they repeat. And, if I might suggest vocal lessons for your lead singer…” 

“That’s too many _shoulds_ ,” Phinks cut in. “Music isn’t a _should_ , rules are there to be broken.” He had Nobu high-fived. He almost never had opinions about the music, and had probably only spoken up to defend Nobunaga’s position - they were close. 

“Like the rules of consent?” Machi asked him. 

“No, like the rules of your mom,” he told her. 

“...I think you could add a bit more drama to your dynamics on the bridge,” Hisoka continued smoothly, as if no one had interrupted. He smiled at them, daring them to challenge him. 

Nobunga seemed ready to bow out of the argument, he sang (OK, screamed) all their music but he didn’t do much of the writing, truthfully Chrollo did most of that, though Phinks, Machi, Feitan and Shizuku wrote their own parts. 

But in terms of the overall structure of the song, the tempo, the lyrics, how it would fit together - Chrollo was the conductor, and they were the orchestra. 

They followed his lead, and If they couldn’t agree, they flipped a coin. 

Machi, Shizuku and Feitan seemed to all have the same thought at the same time, as they all looked toward Chrollo. Their band leader hadn’t said anything, but they all trusted him to make the right call. 

“We’ll change it up,” he said. “Hisoka is the expert here.” 

Hisoka’s smile widened, looking for all the world like the cat with the canary. 

_Smug bastard_ , Machi thought, and lowered her opinion of him by another notch. 

But hey, if it made their music better, it was worth a shot. 

***

Machi found Nobunga out on the balcony. It was small, but the two of them fit comfortably next to some of Phinks’ mom’s succulents and an old, rusty bicycle with the seat missing. 

“You want some?” he asked her, extending his blunt.

“Sure, why not,” Machi said carelessly. She took a long drag, held the smoke in her lungs for a moment, then exhaled and passed it back. She’d have to get the name of Nobu’s dealer, his stuff was medical-grade quality. They passed a moment in comfortable silence, though Machi could tell that Nobu was bothered by something, and thinking about how to bring it up. 

Nobu tapped the blunt to disperse the ash. He took a long drag himself, then leaned back against the balcony railing and exhaled like a pro. He could even blow smoke rings, Machi had seen the TikToks. “Can I ask you something?” he said. 

“You’re going to anyway, might as well get it over with,” she told him. She declined his offer for a second toke, he seemed like he needed it more than she did.

For as long as she’d known him, Nobu had always been a nervous dude. He tried to cover it up by acting like nothing bothered him, but the truth was that many things bothered him. That was why he smoked constantly, any time he could get away with it (and sometimes when he couldn’t).... he claimed the marijuana calmed his nerves. The instant weed was legalized in this state, he’d be the first in line for a medical card. 

“I know Hisoka had things to say about all of us… except you Machi, of course.” Was she imagining it, or were his hands shaking on the lighter? Maybe it was the cold. 

“Of course,” Machi said. She was a phenomenal drummer, and anyway drummers were in short supply on the scene. As a female drummer who could actually play - and play well - her value was doubled. Machi didn’t like to brag, but Chrollo’s band was lucky to have her. 

“Yeah… of course.” Nobu coughed, and offered her the toke again. This time she took it, sensing that if she turned it down, it would only make him more nervous. His hands were definitely shaking, which Machi found interesting. It was just a local record label, you know? Nothing that impressive. Machi knew other bands on the same label, they got a few more shows through the label but apart from that, it wasn’t that much different from not being signed. 

Though she envied her ex-girlfriend, a singer/guitarist whose trio had opened for The Nationals down on the shore recently. Her band was good, but not better than Machi’s. All of it just came down to luck in the end, and hustle. 

And connections. Luck, hustle, and connections. It wasn’t about the music, really. 

Damn, Nobu really did have the good stuff. What was his guy’s name again? Uvo? Machi doubted her memory, it didn’t sound like a real name. 

“But I think he had more comments for me,” Nobu said, watching her inhale. “Like, significantly more. I don’t think he had anything good to say about me at all, actually.”

“You do suck,” Machi told him. 

“Thanks,” Nobu told her. “Sucking is fun, you should try it some time. Just don’t use teeth.”

“Noted, if I ever decide to retire my Gold Star I’ll give it a shot,” Machi told him. 

“No but really…”

“Stop being so sensitive,” Machi told him. “Or if you’re going to be sensitive, then do something about it. Watch some youtube videos to improve your technique or something.”

“You aren’t being reassuring like I wanted you to be,” Nobunaga complained. “And after I shared, too…”

“You have the wrong girl,” Machi told him. “Try Shizuku for that shit.” 

“No, she’s.. Nevermind.”

“Yeah.”

They watched the moon in silence for a moment. 

“Hey, can you give me your guy’s number?”

***

Youtube sucks, you think Hisoka will pay for vocal lessons? Was all she got from Nobu the next day. But she was hanging out with her sorority girls at the bar, so she ignored him. 

***

The next day, Machi’s phone buzzed continuously through her shift at the grocery store, where she was now entering her eighth straight hour of ringing up customers. It was the weekend before Labor day, everyone was buying hamburgers, booze and charcoal briquettes. She couldn’t spare even a moment to check who was blowing up their group chat. 

_Finally_ , at the end of an interminable shift, she managed to sneak away. As she stood outside the store, she spared a moment of thought for Nobunaga and his funny smelling cigarettes. 

_Maybe I’ll take up smoking_ , she thought. At least it would give her an excuse to take smoke breaks. Her mother, a back-to-the-land hippie type who’d raised her and her four brothers on a struggling organic farm, would disown her. 

The label had booked them studio time and hired a professional photographer. They’d been upgraded from Hisoka’s basement to an actual professional studio out in the boonies, probably thanks to Chrollo’s intervention. Machi didn’t know how it worked, but he somehow seemed to know people, and he wasn’t shy about asking for what he wanted. As the drummer, Machi was requested to come in first, at 8:30am, to lay down the rhythm tracks. The rest of the band would follow at 11:30am. 

Machi dialed the number. It would be faster. 

“That quick? Did you suck him off or something?” she asked Chrollo, not bothering with the greeting. 

“The suggestions at rehearsal were a formality, we’ve had this planned for a while,” Chrollo explained. 

_So then why didn’t you say something to Nobu when he was freaking out?_ Machi thought. But she didn’t say anything. Nobu was an adult, he could handle himself. 

“What should I wear?” She said instead. She didn’t own a suit. Did bands still take photos in suits? Maybe she was thinking about the Beatles. 

“Whatever you want, there’s no theme. Jeans and a sweater, or whatever. Dark colors are better, it’s going to be cloudy tomorrow and it’ll fit our image more. Don’t worry, I know the photographer, he’ll make us look good.” 

How did Machi feel about the fact that while they’d been screwing around (literally, in the case of Phinks and, probably, Chrollo) and getting drunk at basement shows, Chrollo had been quietly moving the pieces behind the scenes, preparing an elaborate debut that none of them had known anything about? 

Pretty great, actually.

“You got it, boss,” she said. 

***

The studio was on a farm that reminded her, a bit nostalgically, of the farm from her teenage years. 

Unlike her mother’s farm, though, this one didn’t seem to be in operation… not that her mother’s agricultural ventures had ever turned a profit. All her attempts at wholesome self-sufficiency, pigs, chickens, ducks, and in the end alpaca, had only ever seen their already small fortunes dwindle. 

In the yard, a rusted piece of farm equipment that looked a bit like a hay combiner, for digging stones out of the ground, was decorated with wildflowers. Cider-apple trees dotted the gently rolling hills, sloping down to what looked like an abandoned apple orchard. The fruit was ripe but left to rot on the ground. 

Maybe I’ll go apple-picking after this, Machi thought. The rotting fruit would match their image, too. If they waited for golden hour, the photographs probably would turn out well. 

Machi drove her Subaru up the dirt driveway to the studio at the top of the hill. She parked as close to the farmhouse as she dared. She’d brought her snare and cymbal, and a few other odds and ends in the back of her car. The studio had a house kit but like most drummers, she had particular thoughts about the sound of the cymbal and snare, and they were tuned to the key the band usually played in. She didn’t want to mess up the lawn, but she didn’t want to haul her equipment across the muddy ground, either. 

***

In the farmhouse, Chrollo and the band guy, Hisoka, were waiting at the immaculately rustic wooden table in the immaculately rustic farmhouse kitchen. Machi eyed up the decor. _For show_ , she decided, about the pans hung on the wall, _but not annoyingly showy. Somewhat useful for an actual cook._. It didn’t seem like Hisoka’s style to cook, but then, she didn’t know him that well. Perhaps he had a hidden domestic side? 

Or perhaps it was a front… 

“Coffee?” Hisoka offered, which Machi accepted gratefully. She wasn’t sure what to say with just Hisoka and Chrollo there, especially after Hisoka had been so critical of their sound and so pleased to throw them off guard, but that wasn’t really her problem. She was just here to lay down the drum tracks. After a minimum of small talk, they moved to the soundproofed atrium where the house drum kit was kept. 

This impressed Machi far more than the kitchen, the house was clearly a custom build with studio recording in mind. The drum room was a soundproofed vertical room that took up both floors of the house, with a skylight on the roof. Each drum was individually mic’d with other mics set up to record the overall sound. It would sound like live drums, but the engineer would still be able to adjust the levels without worrying too much about bleed.

For the first time, Machi wondered how much this would have cost them if the label weren’t footing the bill. 

***

The session was uneventful, apart from the fact that Hisoka seemed to have no concept of personal space. Possibly it was Machi’s imagination, but he seemed to take every opportunity to brush against her and readjust her position on the drums, all in the name of adjusting the sound, of course. 

On top of that, Machi had been upgraded since their last time together, from “dear Machi” to “dearest Machi,” the epitet delivered in an overly familiar, albeit playful, sing-song tone, each time with the absolute conviction that he’d eventually wear her down and she’d have to find it - and him - charming.

It seemed her initial hunch about him had been correct. Machi didn’t like to brag, but she did have great intuition about people. It was a blessing and a curse, there was nothing worse than being right about people’s worst instincts. She was absolutely certain that Hisoka’s routine worked on many people, after all most people were looking for someone else to take the lead, especially in romance. But it wouldn’t work on her, and he wouldn’t take a hint. 

_Or more likely, he enjoys deliberately ignoring all the hints…_

Eventually Machi couldn’t take it anymore and told him to fuck off, which only seemed to amuse him, but fortunately Chrollo and the engineer were witnesses and with them in the room, Hisoka seemed unlikely to press his luck any further. Machi pegged him as more of an opportunist, she had a hunch he would only go as far as he thought he could get away with. 

Well, he wouldn’t get away with _any_ of that shit with her. Whether or not it was her imagination, Machi didn’t play those games. 

It took the full three hours from 8:30 to 11:30 to finish the drums tracks for the 10 songs Chrollo had picked out for the album, and those three hours were some of the longest of Machi’s life. Once the rest of the band came she instantly relaxed, she knew instinctively that Hisoka would behave himself in front of them. There wasn’t time for anyone else to record today, but she joined the studio tour Hisoka gave and even helped him to explain the farm equipment to a gawking Phinks, who’d been born on the same city block he’d probably die on. 

Afterwards they all hung around for the group photo; and Shizuku, as usual, was late. 

“Sorry, I had to put my dogs in time out,” she said, hurrying up the driveway. She kissed Chrollo on the cheek, which got her a dirty look from Feitan and a leering one from Hisoka, but Chrollo just hugged her back and kissed her on the forehead, chastely. As they all trudged down the hill to the orchard, she whispered to Machi, “Do you think Feitain dislikes me?”

“Feitan dislikes everyone,” Machi answered automatically.

“I know but…”

“It’s band stuff, it predates your time.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Machi said. “If Feitan really disliked you, you would know.”

Shikuku giggled. “I guess so,” she said. 

Machi thought for a second about Hisoka’s leering look, and wondered if she should say anything to Shizuku. It was only a hunch, but something felt off about their producer. Shizuku, despite how she acted, was a grown woman though. She could look out for herself… probably.

“What do you think about the label guy?” she asked, just to see if she was the only one. 

“He’s cute, but I’m already seeing someone. I told him to ask someone else,” Shizuki said guilelessly.

“Good call,” Machi said. 

It was only a hunch, but Machi trusted her hunches. 

***

Hisoka disappeared for the photoshoot, which Machi approved of. He might have known what he was talking about, in terms of the sound engineering and recording, but he put her teeth on edge. He and Chrollo were like two sharks, circling each other. 

Was it her imagination? She didn’t exactly have evidence, and Hisoka did run the label, so he probably wasn’t a total creep. His worst offense, so far, had been to assume he was far more charming than he actually was. Nothing he’d said or done during the session had crossed the line into something she could point out to others. In a small scene, sooner or later those kinds of details would come out, anyway, and once they did they tended to ruin your reputation. Once that happened, you were basically finished - no one on the scene would want to work with you. 

On the other hand, bands that started needless drama with other bands on the scene, and were picky about who they would work with, also didn’t make it very far. And that was a complication that none of them needed, probably. They were finally getting somewhere with the band and the label; Machi wasn’t about to risk it based on innuendo and a hunch. 

They took a bunch of straight photos, and a few more goofing off, which Chrollo said were for the inside jacket. The photoshoot was quick, they didn’t wait around for the light to be perfect - they were only signed to a local label, after all. 

After a full afternoon of wholesome rusticness and cavorting in the sunshine - never trust the weather report - Machi was more grateful than ever to return to her grimy studio apartment; and pick up greasy Chinese to eat at the local dive bar. 

***

Of course, there was more than one recording session. But Machi’s parts were done, so she wasn’t involved in the next bunch of sessions. She spent her free time on the weekends catching up on sleep and schoolwork for her summer classes, and hitting the gym and college bars. 

That didn’t stop the drama-llamas in the band from involving her in all their squabbles, of course. 

“He keeps asking for retakes!!!!!” Nobu texted her. “Next time I hear ‘from the top’ im gonna blow”

“U like to blow” Machi reminded him. “Hisoka is cute…”

“No one who’s that much of a sadist is cute”

“Says u :P”

“Sorry, I forgot you like the bossy drama queens. Gimme someone laid back I’m all for it”

“TMI” Machi texted, fully aware of how much of a hypocrite she was being after as good as admitting her own type to him, drunkenly, after one of their shows last week. She did always end up with the divas, it seemed… 

“But for real do you think that he likes me as a singer? I dont feel good about this. What’s your hunch say?”

“Get out of here with ‘my hunch’”

“No your hunches are good”

“My hunch says you have nothing to worry about, it’s 3am, go to bed. Or text your buddy Phinks, he’s probably still up playing Xbox live.”

“Oh true”

Machi sighed. 

“Good night, dont be paranoid” she texted, then turned off notifications for the rest of the night.

***

“And he brought in a guy,” Phinks told her the next day. “A Black guy!”

Machi rolled her eyes. “You need to get over your small town prejudices,” she told him. “Bonolenov is Black.”

“Yeah but that’s different.”

“How?” Machi demanded. “How is that different?” 

“He’s a Black guy, but he’s OUR Black guy.”

“YIKES,” Machi said, while Feitan chuckled next to her and signalled for another beer. 

They’d run into each at a local bar where Feitan had been playing a solo acoustic set. This wasn’t even the first time Machi had run into someone from the band outside of band practice or a show - the local scene could be surprisingly small, sometimes. 

Most of the time, she ran into Bonolenov, who seemed to know every band on the scene and to be in half of them, usually playing some kind of guitar, but she’d even caught him playing jazz flute and sitar, once. Far from being ‘our guy’, he was everyone’s guy - who didn’t want a sitar solo on their track? 

But anyway, Feitan was Chinese and constantly getting judged for it, why was he OK with this xenophobia from Phinks??? Whatever, it was too early for the headache she was developing. 

“Ridiculous AND racist,” Machi told Phinks. “But anyway, why do you care if the label brought someone in?”

“They wanted him to show me some things on bass…”

“...And he was better than you,” Machi said, with sudden and complete understanding. 

“Shut up! No he wasn’t!”

“Don’t worry, Chrollo won’t drop you for the new guy,” Machi told him. “Even if he _is_ better than you.”

“He’s not better than me! ...Anyway, has Nobu been talking to you?”

“Why do you guys keep asking me about each other? Ask him yourself.”

“I asked you because you’re here and he’s not, duh,” Phinks said. Well, it was hard to argue with that logic. 

“He’s paranoid, same as you,” Machi told him. “Relax. Trust Chrollo. He wouldn’t let Hisoka kick any of us out. What did Chrollo say about this guy?”

“... it was Chrollo’s idea to bring him in,” Phinks told her.

“Huh,” Machi said. 

“Anyway, I don’t like Hisoka…. Something’s off about that guy,” Phinks said. “He looks at me like I’m a piece of meat… I’m serious!” he said, to Feitan and Machi’s giggling. “And he keeps saying stuff to me… Gross stuff. I think he’s gay,” Phinks concluded. 

“I’m gay,” Machi reminded him. “Your prejudices are showing again.”

“No, you’re a lesbian, lesbians are cool. This guy is a creep,” Phinks said. 

Machi didn’t disagree, but… “Not every gay guy is a creep and not all creeps are gay,” she told him. “What, did he hit on you, or something?”

“I’ll kill him if he tries anything. I’ll murder him. I don’t care if we get kicked off the label.”

Machi rolled her eyes. So Hisoka was playing it safe with Phinks, and making slightly pointed comments and innuendos that he could later deny meant anything. Would he try his act on every member of the band? Was Feitan next? Or Nobu, who was on the verge of a nervous breakdown from the constant criticism? 

Probably he was just toying with Phinks, after all Phinks was fun to rile. 

“Just stay cool, okay? We’re almost done with the recording, I don’t want all my hard work to be wasted just cause YOU can’t handle a dude hitting on you.”

“Whatever,” Phinks grumbled. “As long as he backs off.”

***

She picked up the phone. Put it down. Picked it up again. She wouldn’t call Shizuku. She wouldn’t contribute to band drama. It was none of her business. Her tracks were already recorded. Her part was already done. Trust the process. Trust Chrollo.

“...Yeah?” Shizuku sounded out of breath. Was someone in the background, a deeper-voiced someone, asking who was on the phone? 

...was that Chrollo, sounding annoyed at the interruption???

“Wrong number,” Machi said, and hung up. 

***

“He wouldn’t replace us, right?” Phinks said. They were all at a bar again, Machi’s favorite neighborhood bar actually, after band practice. Shizuku and Chrollo had taken off together, but Machi was absolutely not going to bring that up in the middle of Phinks and Nobu having paranoid meltdowns. 

“Just don’t suck so much,” Feitain advised them. “Be excellent, like me.”

“Yeah thanks dude, we’ll keep that in mind.”

“You could blow him,” Machi suggested. “Then he’d have to keep you around.”

Nobu snorted. This was a topic that was guaranteed to get Phinks completely riled up.

“FIRST, only pussy feels right,” Phinks said. Here we go. Machi, Nobu and Feitan got ready for the show. Phinks was entertaining when he was wound up, and nothing got him as wound up as this topic. 

The guy slept with way too many women to be gay, but maybe he was bi? Machi mused. No straight dude - at least no straight band dude - would be this defensive. 

“Second, that’s against the rules.”

“What rules?” Machi said. “The rules of Tinder? I’m pretty sure you can change your settings in your profile, your other hookups don’t have to know.” 

“He means the band rules,” Nobunaga clarified, taking another swig of his fancy imported beer. 

“...No?” he said, to her blank look. “You really don’t remember?”

“No dating in the band,” Feitan said. “Too much drama.” 

“Ah,” Machi said. She HAD forgotten that rule. Thinking about her aborted phone call to Shizuku, she wisely said nothing. 

“If you’re really that worried about it, why not just ask Chrollo?” she asked Phinks. “Or better yet, ask Hisoka directly. Stop being a pussy.”

“I can’t ask, it’ll put the idea in his head if he hasn’t thought of it yet,” Nobunaga said morosely. 

See, this was the kind of shit Machi couldn’t stand. Pussy-footing around the issue. 

“I don’t think you can put any thoughts in Chrollo’s head that weren’t there to begin with,” she told Nobu, trying to be serious for once. “Have you ever noticed - it’s like he’s thought of everything? Like he’s already thought of all your thoughts, before you’ve even thought them.”

“Why are you making it sound so creepy...”

“No dating in the band,” Feitan repeated, leveling a meaningful stare at her. 

Machi rolled her eyes. She was pretty sure the joke was on these guys - while she was 100% a gold star lesbian, she suspected Chrollo swung both ways. She was the _least_ likely of all of them to end up in Chrollo’s bed. 

And then there was Shizuku and Chrollo… 

“Stop projecting,” she said instead. 

***

They hit a snag in the album recording when they got to the vocal parts. Everything else was done, Phinks’ bass parts with a lot of complaining and whining but eventually buckling down and learning from Chrollo’s guy. When he wanted to apply himself, he could learn at a frightening pace. Even Feitan had picked up a few lead guitar tricks he hadn’t known before, and he was probably the most musically accomplished of all of them. 

But when it came time to do the vocals, Hisoka just didn’t want to let the tracks go. Machi sensed he was like a shark, scenting the blood in the water - he’d unerringly honed in on two most insecure members of the band, Phinks and Nobunaga, and done everything he could to make them feel more unsure of themselves. 

She trusted Chrollo, but not this guy… what could he possibly hope to accomplish by dragging this out for so long? At this point, it just felt like he was playing with them for his own amusement. 

Nobu stopped texting her, but she knew from talking to Phinks that he’d come in to record one, two, three, four, five times. Not for an hour or two, either - full day sessions. If they’d been paying for the time, Machi would have suspected a scam. As it was, she was baffled. Was Nobu really THAT bad? No one had ever complained before. He got a lot of positive attention at shows, his nervous energy on stage was a draw and he could scream with the best of them. 

What was taking THIS much time? Was all this really all necessary, or was Hisoka just fucking with them? And in that case… why? He was the one who’d signed them in the first place. 

“He’s looking for excuses” Nobu texted her. “He’s trying to get me fired.” 

Machi couldn’t take it anymore. She picked up the phone and opened the group chat, then went to DMs. 

***

“So are we doing it”

“Doing what?” Chrollo replied immediately.

“Replacing Nobu.”

Machi’s phone immediately started to buzz. She sighed. But best to get it over with quickly. 

“Yeah?” she said, accepting the call.

“Is that what the rest of the band is saying?” Chrollo asked her. 

“You think I know? I’m not friends with those guys. Ask them yourself.”

“Hmm, so you’re not a snitch,” Chrollo seemed pleased. “Well then, tell me what you think?”

“I think he should stay. Fuck Hisoka.”

“Blunt and to the point, I like it. Any other thoughts?”

“None in particular,” she told him. “It’s just…”

“Yes?”

 _Hisoka is a creep._ She could say it, but she didn’t exactly have evidence. Hisoka, maddeningly, played everything just to the point of plausible deniability. Anyway, even if it was true, Chrollo wouldn’t care. They were getting a good deal out of it, and recording for free - just deal with it, he’d probably say. 

So, a different tactic. 

“I have a hunch that if we let him go, it’ll be the end of the band,” Machi told him. “We won’t be able to keep it together.”

“Why do you say that?” Chrollo said. He sounded neutral, like he was fishing for information. Machi had the sudden realization, he probably didn’t care about any of them. They were all just tools to him. He wanted to gauge this, gauge her reaction before he said anything, to make sure he’d be on the correct side of the argument, the winning side. 

Well, whatever. If he wanted Machi’s opinion he could have it. 

“If you replace Nobu, Phinks will walk too,” she said. “He doesn’t like Hisoka either, and he’ll see himself as the next target. Hisoka only wants you and Feitan in the band. The rest of us are expendable.”

“Even you, dear Machi?”

“...even me,” Machi admitted reluctantly. “You can always replace the drummer. Though good luck finding another drummer as good-looking as me.”

“I think half our fans are yours,” Chrollo said. That _really_ got Machi rolling her eyes, although she was also flattered.

“Half our fans are Nobu’s,” she said instead. It was a slight exaggeration, but it was what the band needed right now. “Straight women like him, he seems sensitive. He has the sensitive snoopy dog eyes. They like that about him.” 

“Spot on as always, dear Machi,” Chrollo told her. Machi rolled her eyes. Chrollo liked to take credit for her ideas, as if they’d been his own ideas all along. 

Though to be honest, she wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t been. 

_Why am I always ‘DEAR’ Machi anyway?_

“That is exactly what I think as well,” Chrollo continued smoothly, as if unaware of how close he’d come to pissing Machi off. “Nobu is an original member, how can we replace him? We might as well replace Phinks and Feitan too while we’re at it.”

Machi hadn’t said anything about Feitan, but he, Nobu and Phinks were close. Had Nobu gone crying to Chrollo? But no, Chrollo had been at the sessions, and he had eyes. You didn’t have to be a genius to see that something fishy was going on, and that those three were too tight for any one of them to be replaced without upsetting the others. 

“Of course, the lineup is set,” Chrollo continued smoothly. “How could we ever think of replacing any one of you? No one is replaceable in this lineup.”

Machi, thinking of the keyboardist who’d been with the band before Shizuku, said nothing. 

Actually, no, fuck that.

“You replaced Neon,” she told him. 

“Musical differences. She didn’t fit my vision for the band.”

Machi rolled her eyes. It was a deflection but she wouldn’t get anywhere pressing it. 

“Whatever you say, boss,” she said instead. “Just don’t let Hisoka fuck with us anymore, okay? You’re the leader, man up and put an end to it.”

“Anything for you, dearest Machi.”

“I’m hanging up,” she said, and hung up.

****

Machi sat in her bathtub, with Turnover blasting over the speakers and a joint in hand. This was the _life_ , maybe she’d really go all out next time - bubble bath, bottle of wine, the whole self-care shebang. She’d become a parody of a girls night in. But she didn’t care. This was what she needed - the band drama was even getting to her, now. 

And speaking of drama… 

She’d heard that Neon and Chrollo had had a thing going, from Phinks, prior to when she’d joined the band. Shortly afterward, they’d gone through a supposedly painful breakup that Machi had been blessed to not hear any details of, and Shizuku had been brought in. 

It was probably true that she’d left over the breakup, and not “musical differences”, because when Machi had joined the band around the same time, Phinks had asked for her opinion on Chrollo’s sex appeal (she could see it, but she was 100% gay) and made her swear up and down that she wouldn’t date anyone in the band, ever. Apparently, they’d lost their keyboardist _and_ their drummer, who’d seen the opportunity to leave with Neon (they were a duo now, and probably an item, though that was none of Machi’s business). 

Chrollo had even been there during her swearing in, he’d also sworn to never again date anyone in the band, with his hand on the bible and everything. No one had even _asked_ him to put his hand on the bible, he’d done it entirely of his own volition, like a drama queen. 

Band drama was the worst kind of drama, really. Say no to band drama 2021. Anyway, she hadn’t known Neon or the drummer so it was none of her concern, really. 

Machi took another deep toke. She’d done her part to keep the band together, the rest was up to them. If Chrollo cared about the band at all, he’d call Hisoka’s bluff, and insist that Nobu should stay. If he decided not to do that, well - she’d warned him. 

And if he and Shizuku really were fucking, she’d just pray they were both sensible enough to keep hiding it from the rest of the band. Unlike what she’d heard about Neon, Shizuku seemed like the kind of person to instantly forget an ex and not hold a grudge over a breakup. Machi doubted she’d _ever_ be the center of band drama, she just didn’t seem like the type. 

Could she get away with shoplifting a bottle of wine from work, she wondered. The bathtub even had a nice wide lip for it. It was by far the best part of her tiny, shitty apartment. 

***

Nobu was sounding a bit horse at band practice, whatever techniques he was learning from youtube to save his voice weren’t nearly enough to make up for the extra studio time, it seemed.

No one said anything, even to make fun of him. The atmosphere was tense.

“I have an announcement,” Chrollo said at the first break. Possibly he could also see the tension, and realized he’d have to address it. Machi had to hand it to him, he knew how to play things close to the chest. 

“I’ve heard rumors that some people in the band are worried about their positions here,” Chrollo began. 

Nobu, Phinks and Feitan all swung around to look at Machi suspiciously, but she just rolled her eyes. _Someone_ had to bring it up, and she’d do it if they were all too chickenshit to. 

Shizuku just looked confused, as if she’d never noticed anything was wrong. That was typical Shizuku, though. 

“Obviously, this is not what I want,” Chrollo continued smoothly. “Chrollo and the Spiders come as a unit, no one in this band is replaceable… and especially not Nobu, he gives us our edge.”

That was one way to put it. Chrollo was always cool on stage, but Nobu brought all of his nervous energy and half the time, the crowd caught it too. She’d be the first to admit that he wasn’t the best technical singer; but his technique wasn’t the reason he was the frontman. 

And it seemed Chrollo agreed, because he said, diplomatically, “I’ll work with Nobu to bring his personal style more in line with Hisoka’s ideas tomorrow. Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention.”

He’d just been waiting to see which way the wind would blow, he meant. Machi didn’t blame him, he’d worked harder for this than anyone else. If he’d decided the band would be better off without Nobu in it - if he’d wanted to change their sound to something else, something softer, more saleable, and thought the rest of the band would be OK with the change - he might have been the first to say something. 

Or would he have allowed things to play out exactly as they had - bringing in another person, an outsider, to be the bad guy and the bearer of bad news? Had this been Chrollo’s plan all along?

“Bring what to your attention?” Shizuku said. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry about it, S.”

Shizuku is the perfect person for this band, Machi thought. She will never cause band drama, she’ll forget the drama the instant it happens. If she and Chrollo break up tomorrow, she’ll forget all about it by Monday. Machi was glad she hadn’t said anything about what she’d overheard to the other members of the band. She might have been imagining it, anyway. 

Nobu seemed shaken, but grateful. Feitan had a look like he’d been preparing for this moment by sharpening his knives, but was now putting his knives away. Shizuku realized then how close they had been - forget probably, Feitan was _definitely_ going to leave if Nobu and Phinks did. Chrollo and the Spiders had a unique sound thanks to him, he was by far the most musically accomplished person in their band who was also a regular member. If he walked that was it, they were finished. 

“And if Hisoka says no, I’ve already gotten a hold of the master tapes from the studio engineer,” Chrollo said casually. “We’ll record Nobu elsewhere. No one fucks with my lineup except me.”

Now THAT was the kind of master stroke that Machi appreciated. That was the reason she was in THIS band, and not another, lower pressure band that just dicked around and went nowhere. 

“Yes, boss,” she said. And this time she meant it. 

***

In the end it was less of an issue than any of them had anticipated. Hisoka immediately agreed to let Chrollo work with Nobu, and do one - final - take on the weekend to fix all the tracks. It was as if all their concerns had been groundless. 

_It’s because he knows Chrollo has the tapes_ Machi thought, pleased. He didn’t have any leverage at all, in this situation. _It’s because he knows we’ll walk if he doesn’t give in_.

Sometimes, she really was happy to have a mob boss as her bandleader. 

****

“It’s kind of weird how much Nobu sounds like M. Shadows now, I’m not sure I like it.”

“It’s better technique, he won’t destroy his throat anymore. Anyway, how many tickets to the release show have you sold? I’ve sold all 10 of mine. I’m about to sell 10 more.”

“Your sorority sisters don’t count, Machi!”

“Dude, you literally count their asses every time they walk by.”

Machi, Phinks, Nobu and Feitan were loading Machi’s Subaru after practice. The plan was to leave all the equipment in her car, and all drive together to the venue the next night, because Hisoka and Chrollo had booked a popular venue in a historic downtown, trendy area, and it would be hard to find parking close to the bar. 

“How do you even know 10 people? All you do is study and work. You’re totally no fun.”

“I’m inviting my friends from work,” Machi said simply. “Some of us have friends, Phinks.”

“I have friends, they just can’t be together in the same room as my other friends.”

“Hookups are not friends,” Feitan said. No one had dared to ask him how many people he’d invited to their shows - Feitan was a mystery even to Phinks and Nobu, his closest friends in the band. Machi knew, however, that he was popular on the scene and that this was not his only project. Feitan was too phenomenal of a guitarist to only be in one band at a time. 

“Hookups CAN be friends,” Nobunaga clarified. “But not in Phinks’ case. He’s a one-use-only kind of dude, use and discard.”

“It’s true,” Phinks said, as if he was proud of it. 

“Now me on the other hand, I believe in reduce, reuse, recycle. It’s way better with a hookup the second time, you start to learn what they like. They start to learn what you like. It’s a mutually beneficial situation.”

“Nobu is right, but also I’d feel bad for the girl… the poor girl who gets attached to Phinks,” Machi said dryly. “Please just stick to what you’re doing, it’s kinder to everyone.” 

“That’s my plan,” Phinks said. “But I’m a catch, just for the record. Not just a great conversationalist and talented musician, but I can bench press like 200 pounds.”

The car was loaded. They high fived each other, then drove home ready to face the music tomorrow. 

***

The venue was PACKED for the release show, Machi was impressed. In the little tourist town where they were playing their set, this venue was a good size, with a max capacity of about 120 people. They would probably be playing to capacity tonight, and with a lot of friendly faces in the audience, the energy would be high. She felt she could relax, nothing could go wrong here. 

Nobu evidently felt the same way, he WASN’T chain-smoking blunts for once and was instead chatting up tourists at the bar and name-dropping their band. Nobu’s ability to be naturally charming and willingness to hold complete conversations with strangers was the _other_ reason he was their frontman, and not Chrollo. It also helped that he and Phinks were tall, and easy to find in a crowd for conversation after a show. 

This venue had a good reputation, so in addition to the 80 people they’d invited, more would be coming in off the street. For once, every member of the band had supporters in the crowd - while only Machi, Chrollo and Nobu had succeeded in selling more than 10 tickets, everyone had sold a few and Feitan had surprised them all by selling 7 to his Chinese immigrant buddies. The fact that this was the album release, and not just a regular show, enticed all their friends who normally had important video games to play at home to come out. 

It was a small venue on the first floor, with a tiny bar upstairs that only seated about 20 people, provided they really liked each other. The real action happened in the basement, where everything going through the soundboard would be broadcast to the speakers outside, pulling people into the show. At $10 a head, they were bound to make a little gas money tonight. 

Speaking of….

“Paku!” Machi peeled off from the wall to wave down her tall friend. It was crowded at the basement bar, good thing Paku towered above the crowd. “You made it!”

“I’ve never been to one of these before, are they always so crowded?” Pakunoda asked, kissing Machi on either cheek like some kind of fancy European world traveller.

“It’s the release show for the album,” Machi explained. “The whole crew came out.” 

“Ah. Oh my God, is that Uvo? You know that guy?”

Like Paku, Nobu and Phinks, Uvo towered over the rest of the crowd and was easy to spot.

“Yeah, he’s Nobu’s guy,” Machi said. “I think he’s tone deaf to tell you the truth, but the two of them are tight.”

“I need to get his number, I lost my contacts to a tragic shower accident last month. Give me a minute.”

Paku strode through the crowd, which parted before her like the Red Sea, probably out of a desire to not seem inappropriately handsy with her enormous tits half-showing in her open suit jacket. Machi smirked. That was one way to do it. 

She hadn’t been sure Paku, her shift manager at the grocery store, would fit in with this crowd and had been prepared to babysit her and make sure she had a good time, but it seemed Paku would fit in just fine. 

***

Back at the bar, she spotted their two biggest fans who didn’t have a personal connection to the band - Kortopi and Shalnark were purely fans, and college roommates. Shal was active in the local scene online, constantly promoting local bands on his Facebook page and Instagram. In fact, Machi fully expected to see him spending the night on his phone, texting his followers online. Every band needed this kind of fan, so they were lucky to have Shal - and doubly lucky that he’d roped in Kortopi, his college roommate, a really good gig photographer with an expensive DSLR camera. 

Machi had heard some rumors about Kortopi, whose day job was looking after kindergarteners in a daycare center, but she was pretty sure they weren’t true. He was just a kind of awkward, ugly looking guy. Definitely not a predator. Not all predators were ugly, some could be objectively good-looking. And speaking of predators… where was their label guy, Hisoka? She didn’t see him anywhere… surely he was invested enough in their album to be here tonight? Or was he sulking, because he hadn’t been able to split up the band for sport like he’d wanted to?

Well, whatever. Thinking about it would just ruin her mood, and Machi was determined to have a good time tonight. She headed to the bar and showed her performer wristband, which got her a complementary beer. 

At the bar, she found Bonolenov, who was playing with the opening band tonight. They nodded to each other, and Machi found herself thinking that they’d better sort out their internal drama soon, or Bono would find other, more promising bands to play with. Though honestly he seemed willing to play with anyone, any time, as long as they had booze and cigarettes - he was just a chill dude like that, and easy to get along with as long as you could talk music or DIY jewelry, his other love. He and Franklin were deep in discussion of some marriage custom in Turkmenistan that Franklin was writing his anthropology thesis on, and Machi left them to it. 

The downstairs venue had two bars, one right next to the stage with limited seating, and a larger bar at the other end of the long space. Booths lined the walls, and in the center in front of the stage, there was a beer pong table. The venue played bands every day of the week, from Mondays to Sundays, and twice a day on weekends. Everything was slightly grimy, in that punk venue way, and on the walls every band that had passed through for the last 30 years had left their own sticker. Machi was proud of her band’s sticker, a spider with the number 13 on the back, centered on the black-painted wooden beam just above the stage. It had been difficult to get the sticker up there… Feiten had stood, one foot on each of Phinks and Nobu’s shoulders, to reach the spot. The lighting was warm, on the stage some old-fashioned furniture, a glass lamp, and a rug made it feel cozy. Machi didn’t want to think about how much beer had soaked into that cozy rug. 

***

As the headliners, they were the last to take the stage that night. They took their time on the sound check, Nobu transforming into a standup comedian telling amusing anecdotes about trials and tribulations of their album recording. Now that it was in the past, it made a good story and got the new fans, the casuals who hadn’t known Chrollo and the Spiders before they’d signed to the label, interested in the band. Nobu even teased their two new songs, “Red Flags” and “Only Losers Start Drama,” which were slated for the next album. 

Only losers start band drama, but all bands need a little bit of drama, Machi reflected. There was a reason she kept falling for the diva-types, after all. All in all, she was grateful that the drama this time was coming from OUTSIDE of the band, in the form of an external enemy they could all join together to defeat. Maybe in a weird way, Hisoka had been good for their band, and brought them all closer together. 

Maybe. Or maybe they’d just gotten lucky that Chrollo had outmaneuvered him this time. 

And speak of the devil… the man himself stood in the shadows near the DJ booth, smirking. Nothing Nobunaga had said had phased him at all, though he was clearly recognizable as the villain in the stories. 

He’s in it for the thrill, Machi realized. He enjoys being talked about, he doesn’t care that it’s negative. We’re just making him more (in)famous, he doesn’t care at all that we hate him.

Well, whatever. 

When her turn came to sound-check, she drew it out, playing every fancy drum fill she knew. Shal and Kortopi, Paku and Uvo, Bonolenov and Franklin, her sorority sisters all cheered for her and Paku bought her a beer and brought it up to the stage. Machi had a great feeling about the set, with so many friendly faces in the audience it would be a wild night. 

At Chrollo’s nod, she started the countdown into their first song. 

“ONE, TWO, ONE TWO THREE!”

***

“That was the best set… ever!” They all toasted each other at the bar. Everyone had wanted to come up to them afterward, so after this drink they’d probably disperse, to spend the rest of the night talking to the old friends who’d come out to see them and the new fans they’d made. 

But this first toast was mandatory. This was their time, as a band. 

And besides, Chrollo was paying. 

The rest of the night passed in a blur. 

“Machi! My girl!” Paku had the alcohol tolerance of an ex-Russian med school student. She was a terror to behold. Machi basically lived her life in bars when she wasn’t in school, at work, or at the gym, but compared to Paku she was an amateur…. Generally Machi took a few hours to nurse a couple beers. Paku on the other hand, was a tequila shot, straight whisky, and vodka straight from the bottle kind of girl. 

Between the free beers for performers and Paku’s rounds of hard liquor, Machi soon realized that they were all about to get completely smashed. 

Further down at the bar, Shizuki had joined Franklin and Bonolenov and the three of them were toasting to the last year of undergrad for Kortopi and Shal, and from the looks of things, having a slightly heated political discussion that was flying entirely over Shizuku’s head. 

Machi had learned tonight, for the first time, that Franklin was Shizuku’s _ex_! It was a surprising, but somehow not surprising development… what was surprising was that it had happened, but what wasn’t surprising was that Shizuku had forgotten to mention it to any of them. 

As the politics wound down, Franklin was showing off his many, many tattoos and piercings to their biggest internet fans. That got Bonolenov going, he rolled up his sleeves to show an intricate pattern that went all the way up his arms and matched his jewelry. Soon they were back to anthropology, shutting out the rest of the bar until Shal and Kortopi wandered off. 

Phinks and Nobu were probably the furthest gone, they had both had a head-start before the show and Phinks’ mom had brought wine coolers for the band to save money, not realizing the free drinks for performers policy. Nobu was currently doing shots with their fans and a few of Machi’s sorority sisters…. Knowing Phinks, he didn’t want to be too far away from that action and was just in the bathroom, or something.

Meanwhile, Chollo and Hisoka had found a corner and were deep in what looked, from the outside, to be a very serious discussion. What could they possibly find to talk about? In the middle of the boozy celebration, the two of them seemed like the only sober ones in the whole crowd - as if they’d decided to retain all of their faculties to use against each other.

Machi found, much to her surprise, that she didn’t much care what they were talking about. The band was on borrowed time with the label, quite probably, but Machi had a hunch it would turn out okay. People WANT some drama with their bands, after all. 

***

EPILOGUE

“Dude, let’s just leave after the show on Friday, and drive through the night! That way we won’t have to pay for a hotel anywhere.”

“We won’t have to pay for a hotel anyway, Meruem said we can have the whole second floor to ourselves,” Nobunaga let the words hang, not saying what everyone in the band was thinking: they could have the entire second floor to themselves, of the house Meruem owned. 

What other struggling, mid-twenties member of their generation owned a house?

Not only did Meruem own a house, but he owned it free and clear - no mortgage. It had been a graduation gift from his parents, who were loaded. Meruem had held odd jobs here and there but he basically did music full time, he’d never had to work a day in his life. If he wasn’t so active in the scene - and wasn’t such a phenomenal musician - it would be easy to hate him for it. 

“No way, I don’t want to spend the whole day in the car with you losers.”

“Well I don’t want to spend the whole day and night with you EITHER, Phinks, but I also want to sleep before we play the show.” Machi twirled her drumstick, idly. They’d just finished their regular Thursday practice, and they were only now getting to the logistics of the mini-tour Chrollo had set up with Meruem’s help. 

They would travel about eight hours south to the Carolinas to play with Meruem and the Ants for three shows, and then the Ants would travel north to play with them on two shows. This would be the band’s first tour out of state, normally they just played local gigs but after the deal with Hisoka - and their access through him to slightly bigger venues - blew up, Chrollo was looking to expand their footprint in any way possible. 

They were already infamous on the scene for the messy way they’d split from the label, threats and badmouthing had been involved. Machi had found herself in the center of some very ugly rumors, which Hisoka had started, surprise surprise, in his own attempt at revenge. Apparently they’d split because she’d desperately wanted to date him, but he had a policy against dating people he worked with. Machi _really_ couldn’t stand him. 

Fortunately, her reputation on the scene was strong. At first, most people (and especially most _men_ , Machi noted) had been reflexively on Hisoka’s side. He was superficially charming, and the lie was so blatant that few believed it had been entirely invented. 

But eventually, the details didn’t add up. Another band on the label also quit, and their lead singer complained loudly to anyone who’d listen about how badly Hisoka had treated her. 

Finally, it came out that he’d dated both her, and the band’s bassist at the same time - and the bassist was 16. He was finished after that, and Machi’s reputation was retroactively repaired. 

_I don’t give a damn about my bad reputation._ Thank you, Joan Jett. Machi really _didn’t_ care about her rep, especially with idiots who believed the first rumor from other idiots they came across, but it had been annoying to be dropped from shows without explanation, while the scene had been temporarily split down the middle - either her side or Hisoka’s side. 

_Am I Joan Jett? Is my ex Cherie Currie? I guess that means we won’t get back together.._

“Is Phinks in Machi car? I thought he is with Chrollo.”

“Yeah, what’s the division, anyway?”

“I need the front seat for Paku,” Machi said loyally. “And the back seat for my dog and equipment. But maybe I can take one of you if you ask nicely.”

“With that kind of warm welcome, how can we resist,” Nobu said. 

“Dude, you’re with us!” Phinks tried to put him in a headlock, which Nobu graciously allowed for a second before he sidestepped the bro-punch from Feitan, “Enough, OK, I love you guys too.”

“I’ll go with you, Machi,” Shizuku said. “As long as Franklin can fit too,”

“Isn’t he allergic to dogs?” 

“He’s not allergic to my dogs…”

“He’s just too much of a gentleman to say anything,” Nobu said. “But that’s okay, I have allergy pills.”

Poor Franklin, Machi thought. Pills or no, an eight-hour drive with Machi’s fluffy samoyed would aggravate anyone’s allergies… aaaaaaand Shizuku was petting him again. Machi could see why she’d claimed the car with the dog. She probably wished she could take her own dogs on the tour, but they were very poorly trained and the whole band had collectively put their foot down.

“So Nobu, me, and Feitan will ride with Chrollo then,” Phinks said. “Guys versus girls, we’ll be able to let our hair down.” He grinned wildly, Nobu made a face. 

“I don’t have any problems with this,” Chrollo said.

"But let's not drive through the night. We’ll play the show tomorrow night and leave in the morning.”

***

In fact, the drive took nine hours - neither Machi nor Chrollo was a fast driver. As Machi hummed tunelessly to the radio and listened to Shizuku and Franklin chattering in the back while Paku slept, she thought, again, about what a good thing it was that the band was not on edge anymore. 

If they’d been anxious, or worse divided like Hisoka had wanted, a drive this long would have finished them. 

As it was, Machi was expecting to diffuse the tension between Nobu and Phinks when they arrived. No one could stand being that close to Phinks for that long. 

As they got closer, Chrollo texted Shizuku the address. Meruem’s huge house, on three acres of land, was in the middle of nowhere so they’d have to load the directions ahead of time. Paku, who hadn’t realized they’d be leaving the civilized world for the backwoods, started to complain that her house in Stardew Valley would become overgrown. 

They drove up the long, gravel driveway to the split-level ranch at almost the same time. 

***

Machi was having a blast… if she didn’t know better, she’d say this was their best set ever. Even better than their album release. The locals, in the backwoods with little cell service, were tons of fun. Machi bet about half of them played themselves, everyone had the vibe of being in a band and they all seemed to know Meruem.

And they loved live music! Couples were dancing in the aisles in front of the stage, and to dance to the Spiders, who changed the tempo every few bars, took serious skill. In the back, a young woman in a pink hoodie and doc martens was dancing on top of one of the tables. Meanwhile, the bar was doing brisk business in whisky and beer. Though it was hard to tell under all the ten-gallons hats, everyone seemed to be having a good time. 

Chrollo certainly knew how to pick their shows. And the storm outside, driving every local inside to the bar to get out of the rain, was definitely helping too. 

Nobu, feeling feisty, switched to the venue’s cordless mic and waded out into the audience. He spun around a few dudes in cowboy gear and work boots, screaming in their faces as they screamed back into the mic. Then he squeezed in with a girl and her friend, sitting at a table in front of the stage, but they just yelled and shoved him off, good-natured. 

Just as they were heading into the second, more energetic part of their set, there was a tremendous flash of light… and the power went out. 

Everyone milled around, confused. The bartender kept serving the bottles, but the draft beer lines and soda guns weren’t working. Someone wandered out into the street. “It’s the power line!” they called. 

Everyone crowded outside to look. Sure enough, lightning had struck an enormous tree, and it had fallen across the street and onto the utility pole. The bar and half the block were out of power. 

Sometimes you can’t make this shit up, Machi thought. She was still buzzing with energy, she wanted to continue but it didn’t seem like the power would come back any time soon. About half the locals braved the rain to head home, but the other half stayed and the bartender brought out some candles from behind the bar. In the dim, warm light, with the storm still raging outside, Machi felt a cozy sense of togetherness that she only felt at the best local shows. 

_This is why I joined a band_ , she thought. Not for the money (ha! What money?), the notoriety, or even the music. _Definitely_ not for the drama. Just for the sense of togetherness, the easy comradery that seemed to come so naturally to so many in the scene. 

She made her way to the bar, and ordered a beer while she could still get it cold. Meruem, Chrollo and Feitan found their way onto the stage and started an acoustic jam… Elenor Rigby? The melody was familiar, and Feitan had a lovely warm sound on his expensive acoustic guitar, delicately picking out the repeated riff. Meruem joined on the bass line, generously surrendering the lead to Feitan. His keyboardist, Komugi, kept time on Cajon - it seemed she was another multi-instrumentalist. Machi had to hand it to them, they were an _extremely_ talented band. Symphonic death metal….

Nobu swaggered drunkenly to the mic, he was fully in crooner mode on this close, warm night. 

“She had dumps like a truck, truck, truck…”

Ah. Not Elenor Rigby, then.

Chrollo strummed along on the rhythm guitar, also content to surrender the spotlight. 

Could there be anything better than this? Warm night, cold beer and good friends. Machi found the drummer for the Ants, Youpi, and the bassist, Pitou, seated next to her at the bar and clinked beers. Their violist was also on stage, improvising a countermelody as Nobu crooned into the mic:

“Thong thong, thong thong thong thong.”

This was everything she wanted. She was happy.


	2. Artwork by violana_d!  <3

It's not an actual chapter update, but I promised I'd update with the illustration for this story when it was available and here it is! I love it! 

Click through for full size!!!

The artist is violana_d on tumblr, show her some love at the link!!! 

<https://violana-d.tumblr.com/post/622488359621836800/this-year-i-was-able-to-participate-in>

<333,  
sub_divided

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading, comments are appreciated!


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